


A Perfect Day

by Daegaer



Series: Fall from Grace - Hastur and Ligur [10]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Demons, Despair, Hatred, M/M, envy - Freeform, tempting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-05
Updated: 2004-10-05
Packaged: 2020-04-23 14:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19152700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: Hastur and Ligur do some work.





	A Perfect Day

The tall, skinny man edged further along the narrow ledge, away from Dave Richardson's outstretched hand.

"I told you not to come any further! I'll jump!"

"Don't do it, mate," Richardson said desperately. "Come back here and let me help you."

"Help me?" the man said with a bitter laugh. "You goin' to make the courts give me my kids, then? You goin' to make my wife not have run off?"

"Don't do this," Richardson said, "please, I'm here with my own kids. They're just up on the path above. Think of them, think of _your_ kids. Things'll get better."

"You think you'd be happy with seein' your kids one weekend a month? She's movin' away. You think you'd be happy seein' your kids a couple of weekends a year? They don't need me, they'll forget they ever had a dad. Fathers is _useless,_ Dave. Don't think this won't happen to you."

Richardson looked into the man's bleak and despairing eyes and could think of nothing to say.

"Bye, Dave."

He stepped off the ledge and was gone. Richardson heard himself make a noise he'd never heard an adult man make before and clung to the cliff, not wanting to look down and see the ripples in the sea from the man's plunge. He saw the bleak eyes and the step into space play again and again behind his eyes, and thought in despair of how his own ex-wife had said she was moving up to Scotland and he could have the children at alternate Christmases and Easters. He probably wouldn't see them after the second year. He sank down on the ledge, crying. It never occurred to him that he hadn't told the man his name.

Hovering invisible in the air opposite the ledge, Hastur grinned at the spectacle of human despair.

 

* * *

 

"Well, that was easy," the short girl said. "I'd have thought the exams would've been a bit harder than _that_."

The other students looked at her in absolute hatred as she pushed her perfect hair back with a prettily plump hand and dug out a pack of cigarettes from her neat, expensive handbag.

"I'd be surprised if I didn't get a first out of that," the girl said smugly. "How about the rest of you?"

None of them answered. One plain girl choked back a sniffle. The short girl leaned forward, concern all over her face.

"What's wrong, love? You can't have found it that hard, surely? Don't worry - you can always repeat the year, and anyway, not everyone's cut out to be a solicitor. You can make a good living at something a bit less challenging. Now, stop whinging and get your round in, yeah?"

The crying girl stood up and headed for the bar. She looked plainer than ever, with her face pinched and miserable.

"Be good practice for her high-flying career in waitressing," the short girl said in a voice that carried just enough.

One or two of the others sniggered at their unfortunate classmate who continued to the bar, her face burning with shame. No one thought to wonder that they'd never seen the short girl in lectures.

Ligur sat back with his Sweet Afton held delicately between what were currently perfectly manicured fingers and laughed soundlessly.

 

* * *

 

"So wot you've been up to, then?" Hastur said as Ligur bounced off the Tube, a wide grin on his face.

"Envy an' hatred, mostly," Ligur said, tucking his arm through Hastur's. "Terrible thing, envy. Eats yer up, it does, somethin' shockin'. 'Ow about you?"

"Good old fashioned despair," Hastur sniggered. "Them Good Samaritans, they're just askin' fer it."

"So you 'ad a good day at the seaside, then?" Ligur said as they strolled along.

"Yeah. Better now, though."

They looked sidelong at each other and grinned.

"I could do wiv a bit more incitin' horror in the 'uman soul, though," Ligur said, before the atmosphere could get too soppy. "An' dinner."

"A karaoke bar?" Hastur said.

"Perfick!"

"An' then we can break inter Madame Tussauds and pose a big waxy orgy, if yer like."

"Hastur, yer have all the best ideas," Ligur said. "If there was some old geezer around who'd 'ave a heart attack, I'd shag yer right here."

"We can drop by an old folks' home after dinner," Hastur said cheerfully.

"But we're still goin' ter the Wax Museum, right?" Ligur said.

"Yeah, after a spot of dinner. C'mon. Let's go sing power ballads."

Arm-in-arm the dukes of Hell wandered down the road, practicing every Michael Bolton song they could remember.


End file.
